Death Note Rambles
by Jeebas
Summary: I made these a few years ago. Nothing exciting. Just my piece of mind on Light's death, funeral preparations and actual funeral.


Disclaimer ~ I don't own anything but the bullshit that flows freely from my mouth!

A/N: I didn't want to write one of these up here but I'm sorry for not updating my other fic but Hannibal is interfering and part of me died when Hanni fucked off to France and left me dealing with the crusty lid of an out-of-date mayonnaise bottle that is Fuller, who by the way, deserves an infinite amount of crying babies following him 24/7. That is all.

For the short paced inspiration bursts I had aprox 2 years ago that I never bothered to finish. You're lucky I actually had the decency to bring them to a closure compared to what they were when I found them on my IPod. I bring you:

Death Note rambles! -

Part one

The edges of his eye sight began to blur and fade, along with his sense of reality. The droning of what seemed to be his own voice, were silenced by choked sobs and his blind fury that he could not find the words for. He was speechless. But what for? His mind span, leaving him feeling a little nauseous with the ringing of the multiple gun shots that were fired, echoing through his body.

"Matsuda…? Matsuda...!? Listen to me! Please drop the gun before you harm any others; this isn't easy on the rest of us either."

Matsuda blinked. Were they talking to him? Why would he be holding a gun, let alone being told to drop one... Did that mean he shot someone?! He realised he was trembling, terribly, and something was numbly clasped in his grip. He shook it off, causing the cold, heavy and metal object to fall, clattering onto the concrete floor.

Oh. That gun.

Oh, Light Yagami.

Oh, Kira.

"Matsuda you idiot, it was a figure of speech! I didn't actually mean drop it!"

Matsuda didn't respond. He didn't care. Instead, he fell to his knees and let a god damn awful whine erupt from his dry and raspy throat. What had he done? He shot his best friend... His co-worker... The best man in the team. But no. Not anymore. That all went to hell the moment Light Yagami lost. Lost what, though? He couldn't tell. He only knew that he had lost whatever he had left when he picked up that fucking book. All he could hear now were the ghostly remains of Light's wails bouncing off of the walls of his mind. Misa was not here. Takada's dead. Mikami can do nothing to help the situation. Who was he calling for? Someone to save him? Surely he cannot be so naive as to think someone can save his sorry ass out of the consequences of what he has done. He was doomed the moment he wrote in that Death book. What the hell was he thinking?

"He's gone, Matsuda... He won't last long though, if that's what this is about. "

His thoughts were fogged over with a hazy taint of remorse and his face was drained of all colour. He wouldn't last long? Would he die? Had he just killed someone?! Maybe this was for the best. He was being merciful to Light, regardless of whether he deserved to be treated that way or not. Light must feel haunted by all of those deaths, especially since how Matsuda feels about shooting only one person... So the thousands Light murdered must be agonisingly painful for him. Or not. Matsuda knew he felt nothing towards the fact he's a cold blooded murderer. He even doubted whether he considered him as a friend. Perhaps he didn't know him as well as he thought he did, after all, they are completely different.

As Matsuda tried to detach himself from his emotions, he was hoisted up from the ground where he sulked by under his arms. He was a detective; he shouldn't let personal feelings get in the way of his job. He regained his standing position and brushed himself off, ignoring the fact he just collapsed in a sobbing heap on the floor.

"Thanks... Ide and Aizawa... "Matsuda smiled weakly at them both, turning his attention to the rest of the ware house and observing the wreck of a man which was Mikami in the corner, not making any attempt to help him. "Should we go after Light? There's still a chance he might get away."

"No... Like I said, he isn't going to last long with those wounds. Just leave him until he drops; we'll find him then. "

Matsuda nodded and sighed. The most amount of time it would take was about 10 minutes... Then they would have to find the remains of him.

The rest of Near's team dealt with Mikami, while he gave us the instructions on what to do with Kira's body on depending on the condition it was in. Myself and Aizawa were to go and search throughout the warehouses while Mogi and Ide stayed here for if he came back.

Ten minutes later they were sent off, scrounging around the shadows of the dingy buildings until we saw something of Light.

Part two

Mogi carelessly dropped the folder containing the remains of the Kira case onto the desk, carrying on to the coffee maker and heating it up while he went to get his mug.

"Now it all comes down to what we're meant to do next." He starts, sounding somewhat drained of all energy he never had to begin with. "I agree with Near. I don't think we should publicise the fact that Yagami was Kira. For obvious reasons... His reputation, along with the rest of his family and respect for them."

The rest of the team nodded, too exhausted by the whole ideal to pitch in any other reason.

Part three

Everyone was silent. The singing birds and the hustling of the trees in the moist wind seemed to be more than enough to fill the awful dread and irony of what was to be said. Although, only he would find it this way. Perhaps the irony was that the person that knew Light Yagami the least was the person who knew him for what he really was. That was also the dreadful part too. What unknown lies would the priest come up with that would be unnoticed to everyone else but him? Of course, if the rest of the task force came, he would feel more at ease. But what reason would they have to come here? What reason did he even have to come here? Who was he compared to the rest of Light's family who came? Matsuda started to regret the decision he made to arrive. At least the terrorising visions and thoughts that roamed freely inside his head were died down by the priest who began to speak, reciting prayers Matsuda knew he deserved more than who they were for.


End file.
